Spirit Night
by Moriyasha Neko-hime
Summary: Taking place once every four years, under the watch of the Golden Order of Precursor Monks, is a time when wounds can be healed.
1. Chapter 1

_**Spirit Night**_

Summary: Taking place once every four years, under the watch of the Golden Order of Precursor Monks, is a time when wounds can be healed.

- - -

This was originally going to be a Halloween fic, but I never got around to actually writing it down. After spook night passed, I considered leaving it until next Halloween, but some stuff clicked with the Yuletide Season and I decided to post it as a December/Christmas fanfic.

So here it is.

- - - - -

_**One: Arrangements  
**_

"You drove through the Temple."

Jak gave a nervous wince at the icy venom in the monk's voice. "Yeah. And…we're all sorry about that," he said. "We didn't actually know we would be going through there until—"

"You could have refused," Seem cut him off.

"That's just the thing, we couldn't!" Jak replied. "We had to win the whole Championship, and with the Wasteland at the start of the season, backing out wasn't an option. We had enough trouble just keeping up with everyone else."

Seem turned away sharply, picking up a scroll of her desk. "I am relieved that you were spared the time to lament upon your damage to my Order, faith and home," she snapped as she returned the scroll to its slot in the bookcase. "As many others who have knowledge of the Precursors' identity, I am sure you do not feel the need to respect their teachings or their places of worship."

"It wasn't like that!"

"No?" The young woman drew another scroll from the bookcase forcefully before meeting the time warrior's blue gaze with her own ruby glare. "Did you not take a grand amount of enjoyment from tearing down the racetrack that cut through our house of prayer? If you felt even the slightest bit of remorse as you raced that day, I will take back my words."

Jak opened his mouth to speak, but no words came as he was unable to deny the thrill he had felt as he had made it through the Precursor temple at air cutting speed. He closed his mouth and looked away from the rubies that were Seem's eyes.

"And you have the nerve to come to me and ask _me_ to come to a Meeting in _Haven_." The young woman exhaled hotly at the boy's downcast expression. "Despicable." Without another word, Seem stormed through the doorway, pushing aside the curtain that hung in the doorway as she left the room.

"Seem, wait—" Jak hurried after the lady monk, but making it out into the hall, watching as Seem turned a corner, he realized that was the end of the conversation and he sigh despairingly as he leaned one had against the wall.

A familiar weight clambered up to Jak's shoulder, settling down after finding a comfortable position. "So… How did it go?" Daxter asked.

"I think she hates us again," the hero replied, but stopped to consider something. "No, scratch that. She hates _me_. She might be willing to forgive _you_ since you're a Precursor and all."

"I wouldn't bet money on that," the ottsel said, patting his friend's green-blond head. "_Veger_ got Ottselfied and she still hates _him_."

"'Course she does," spoke a rough, thick-accented voice, and Jak turned to the large man trudging down the hall to join the two teens. "Seem's got her own personal reasons fer that."

"Hello, Kleiver," Jak said blandly.

The large, scarred man's mustache rose as he grinned. "'Course…She's got her reasons fer hatin' you now, too, dudn't she?"

The young hero just glared.

"Hey. Sand bag," Daxter snapped in the place of his friend. "Why don't you be useful for a change?"

Kleiver contemplated a moment. "A'right, you want some advice?" He said to Jak. "Start growin' yer hair back out. Y' look like a friggin' beatnik."

"Thank you, Kleiver," Jak replied blandly as the Wastelander went on his way, and the youth sat down on a nearby stone bench.

The hero was somewhat irritated, as the subject of his haircut seemed to be a popular one, as almost every Wastelander he had met on his return to Spargus had commented on how strange he looked, as long hair was the common style for Wastelander men. And he himself didn't particularly like it either, but Keira had insisted on evening out the cut the Wastelanders had given him when he had been rescued.

Jak couldn't suppress his sigh at the thought of the mechanic. Throughout the entire Kras City Grand Championship, Keira had been exceptionally demanding about his appearance and pushy about being in constant contact with him, holding his arm or just leaning against him.

At the end of the whole ordeal Keira had actually kissed him. And while he had accepted the gesture, Jak couldn't help feeling as though the kiss had been desperate on the girl's part. As if she was trying to keep a grasp on him somehow.

It made him feel…hollow.

"Hey, Jak."

Jak's mind returned to the hallway in the Precursor temple and looked up at Daxter, who had moved to drape himself over his head. "What is it, Dax?"

"Your face got all tight…" the ottsel tapped the space between the youth's green eyebrows, "…right here."

Jak blinked awkwardly.

"I know that look, buddy. It means 'I'm deep in thought about something that makes me _real_ uncomfortable'," Daxter said. "Lemme guess: Keira."

Knowing he could never deceive his best friend, perhaps one of the few people who had been able to understand him before he had been capable of speech, Jak sighed and nodded in resignation. "I just…don't think I get her anymore. Not since…"

He didn't have to go on, as Daxter knew the rest. Jak and Keira had never really been the same toward each other since the incident in the garage, when Keira had compared Jak to Erol and gone so far as to use his transformation against him. She had never truly apologized to him, but had recently developed the habit of clinging to him and luring his attention to rest solely on her.

Both Jak and Daxter had been in need of some away time from both Keira and Haven, and had been glad to hear that Ashelin needed them to go to Spargus. She had arranged—with some difficulty—a Meeting of the Three Cities so that Haven could work out any loose ends with Spargus and Kras and negotiate peace. As Jak was Damas' son, and everyone in Spargus knew it, Ashelin had requested Jak to select someone to represent the desert city.

At first he had considered calling up Sig, but the Wastelander had apparently taken up his old mantel as a spy—this time in Kras for Haven. Daxter had the tendency to joke that Sig had actually developed an interest in his late employer's daughter. Either way, he was unavailable.

Jak hadn't actually considered asking Kleiver, as he had beaten him in the championship and he was fairly certain the man was still bitter about his loss.

His choice after Sig had been Seem; as the leader of the Precursor Monks, she would know exactly what went on in Spargus and what it would have to gain from Haven.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. If he had been paying attention, Jak probably would have realized why Seem had been avoiding him for the past couple of days and what the High Priest of the Golden Order would have to be angry about.

"I'm such an idiot."

"That's for sure," Daxter agreed honestly. "Even if it is a cool jacket, you should've worn something that makes you look like a Wastelander instead of your Freedom League uniform. You stick out way too much."

Jak's blue eyes narrowed at his orange friend. "I wasn't talking about that and you know it."

"Yeah, I did. But your forehead got all tight again, so I also know you were thinkin' about way too many things at one time," the ottsel replied. "Plus, it's something I've been wanting to ask about. Why don't you wear your armor anymore?"

The green-blond youth sighed as he rose from the bench. "I'm just…not sure about Mar's Armor sometimes," he said. "It…bothers me…"

"What does?" Daxter asked.

But Jak just shook his head, wanting to dismiss the subject. Not wanting to give his friend another uncomfortable thought to dwell on, Daxter let it go, hopping up onto Jak's shoulder.

"Ready to go find Mister Lady Grump?" He asked.

Jak gave a small smile, not bothering to argue with Dax that Seem was a girl, and they headed down the hall to look for her.

Descending a set of stairs, Jak and Daxter came to the residential area of the temple, and were startled to find the hall packed with monks hurrying to and fro with their arms full of flowers and various other objects the pair of heroes couldn't describe aside from the fact they seemed to be decorations of some sort.

"Looks like a party," Daxter grinned as he watched a pair of female monks hang a wreathe of red flowers over a doorway.

Jak moved as carefully as he could, trying to make as little contact with the young followers of the Precursors as possible while he made his way through the crowd. When at last he finally made it to the other end of the hall, he looked back at the horde of elves and released a sigh. But upon turning to continue on his way, he collided with someone, sending their boxes of flowers and various oddities to the floor.

"Ah! Sorry!" Jak fell to one knee to help the monk gather up his things. "Didn't see you."

Having finished cleaning up the mess he had made, Jak helped the monk to carry his things to a nearby room. "Sorry again," he said.

"It is alright," the young man—who bore a red circle over his left eye—smiled sheepishly. "I should not have been carrying so many things that I could not see either."

"But, uh…"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to ask this, but…" Jak glanced at Daxter who motioned him to go on. "Would you by any chance know where Seem is?"

"The Mistress?" The youth blinked and then smiled brightly. "Oh, yes! She should be finishing the arrangements with the Riders…" He stepped out into the hall and pointed to a nearby set of stairs, "…just down that way."

"Thanks," Jak smiled and headed toward the aforementioned stairs.

"Sweet water," the monk replied with a bow.

Making it to the next floor, Jak and Daxter found the lady monk talking with a small group of her followers, who they recognized as the same monks Jak had raced through Spargus for a Light Eco Crystal just barely a year ago. Taking a deep breath, Jak walked over.

Catching sight of their prince, some of the monks bowed to him, while others moved to stand between Jak and their young leader, blocking her from view.

"Seem?" Jak looked in her general direction. "Can I finish talking with you?"

A thick silence was his reply.

"Please? This is important."

A gentle sigh lifted the veil of silence—the young hero had almost mistaken the sound for a light breeze passing through a nearby window—and the Leaper Riders turned to their leader as she spoke.

"Tonom da. Utei wa tof ryuely. Ri coylu ruinn ho Mar."

Bowing respectfully to Seem, the riders headed off the way Jak had come, some casting warning looks from the corners of their eyes as they moved past him.

"Some of these guys still freak me out," Daxter whispered to Jak, making him smile.

The green-blond looked at the lone, ruby-eyed leader of the Precursor Monks and scratched his head. "Seem, I—"

"I am sorry."

Silence fell once again at Seem's unexpected apology, and Jak exchanged a look with an equally confused Daxter who shrugged awkwardly.

"Sig had informed me of the predicament you and your friends were ensnared in, the very reason you had to race," Seem went on. "And I have been aware of it for some time, however, your invitation to Haven…came at something of a bad time."

Jak cast a glance around the hall, seeing the walls and doors decorated with blue flowers and white marks of the Ancient Precurian Alphabet etched around the doorways and on the floor, making a circle. "Is there some sort of party coming up?" He asked, honestly curious.

"It is a holiday, yes," the porcelain-skinned young woman replied with a nod. "Normally, the preparations would have been taken care of weeks ago, but due to the races, most of our time has been thrown in cleaning and repairing the damage to the temple, so we are somewhat behind."

"That might do it," Daxter nodded.

"So when is this…holiday?" Asked Jak.

"It starts tomorrow night and goes on into the day after."

"And tomorrow's when Ashelin's Meeting starts," Daxter said with a groan.

"Hence another reason for my outburst," Seem nodded. "For which I again apologize profusely."

Jak scratched his head with a sigh. "No, I understand," he replied. "I suppose it's important that you're here for…whatever it is that you do."

At this, Seem fell into a thoughtful silence, contemplating something for a short while before her red eyebrows rose as comprehension dawned.

"Actually, I may be able to attend your meeting," she finally said.

"Really?" Jak blinked in surprise. "But what about—"

"I will attend, only if I may be permitted to continue with my ceremony in Haven City," Seem added, cutting him off. "You can arrange something with the Baroness, yes?"

The young hero honestly wasn't sure.

"You're not gonna be sacrificing small animals are you?" Daxter asked.

At this, Seem's lightened expression darkened with a frown.

Jak quickly pulled out his communicator and dialed Ashelin's number, hoping he would only have to wait a short while before she answered.

Thankfully, she did. _"Jak?"_

"Yeah, it's me."

"Yo, Red!" Daxter called with a wave, though there was no way she could actually see him.

"_Is everything going alright in Spargus?"_ The woman's voice inquired. _"You're not having any trouble, are you?"_

"Not really, no," Jak cast a blue glance at Seem, who watched him levelly without blinking, and somewhat disturbed, the hero returned his attention to the device. "Hey, Ashelin, Seem's willing to come to Haven, but she wants to bring some sort of…celebration along."

"_What do you mean?"_

"There's gonna be some sort of holiday during the meeting, and she doesn't want to miss it," Jak elaborated.

Ashelin fell silent as she seemed to consider it. _"I'll need to know what it entails before I actually decide," _she said.

Seem stepped over to Jak and took the communicator in her white hand. "Simply some space and anyone who would like to take part," she said. She cast a small glare at Daxter, "You have no need to worry about ritual sacrifice, as that seems to be Orange Lightning's primary concern."

"_It would be,"_ Ashelin said dryly before once again falling silent. _"I'll need to know the minute details, but you can fill me when you arrive in Haven City."_

"Then you will permit me and my monks to continue our celebration?"

"_I see no actual harm in it,"_ the woman miles away replied.

"Thank you, Baroness." Seem returned Jak's communicator to him. "I will arrive in Haven tomorrow morning with my monks."

"Then I'll go with you then," Jak replied and lifted his communicator. "You catch that, Ashelin?"

"_Yeah. See you guys then. Ashelin out."_

Jak clicked the device shut and returned it to his pocket. "You sure you can be gone for this thing?"

"The Temples are riddled with Light Eco Vents, and that is what they used in place of the High Priest, should he ever be absent," the young woman replied. "I shall inform my monks of this and we will prepare what will be needed. But we will require another transport."

"Okay," Jak smiled. "Dax and I'll go set things up with that." While Seem walked down the hall, he hurried back towards the stairs, but stopped when he reached the first step and looked back. "Hey, Seem?"

The young woman looked back over her shoulder at the young man. "Yes?"

"I'm…really sorry about what happened to the Temple," he said quietly. "I probably can't make up for what happened…But…"

"I am sorry, Jak."

He blinked. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

The porcelain-skinned young woman shook her head. "I…overreacted about your actions, and I apologize. I was wrong about you…again."

"Seem—"

"Tohng. Tongh."

"Tong-Tong?" Daxter quirked an eyebrow.

Two monks—one girl and one boy—emerged from the end of the hallway and the female declared, "Here, Mistress."

"Tongh, escort Jak and Daxter through the temple to Spargus."

The young man bowed and moved to join the two heroes at the stairs, and together they left.

"Happy Holidays!" Daxter called back over Jak's shoulder.

Seem couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Tohng…"

"I am here to serve," the young woman replied.

"Inform everyone that they are to come to the Old Arena once they have finished their preparations," she said. "I have something to announce."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Spirit Night**_

- - -

Probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I do not support Keira x Jak, I am a devout Jak x Seem shipper and this fic may contain some of that and a possible break-up for the former pairing. Anyone looking for JxK, I feel I must warn you that you will not find it here. Many sorrys, please don't flame me.

On another note which my sister has been helpful enough to point out, there will be a slight mention of slash later on, but not for Jak. Just wait and you'll understand.

Also, there is a vague mention of an as-yet unposted one-shot of mine, **_Hot Water_**, so once it's up you might want to read that too.

- - -

**_Two: Meeting_**

- - - -

_A series of tall figures stood around the boy, all smiling warmly, though some were a little exasperated._

"_He got away again."_

"_This time he went all the way to the Temple Falls."_

_The tall, crowned figure laughed. "I can barely keep up with him myself."_

"_He certainly lives up to his name," laughed another. "As I recall, Mar was said to have constantly found some adventure or other, whether he wanted to or not."_

"_Perhaps becoming a great hero is the prince's destiny as well."_

- - - -

The transport shook violently and Jak snapped awake, tearing off his blanket to fight off his attackers. But all he found were the five monks bundled up tightly as they went on sleeping, and beside him Daxter mumbled something incoherent as he crept back under the jostled blanket.

"Sorry about that, Jak!" One of the pilots called back. "We're hitting a bit of turbulence, but we should be landing in the port soon."

"Thanks," the young man sighed and leaned back against the cold metal wall of the transport, letting his eyes rest once more.

His dream…had probably been another vague memory of his childhood before Sandover. They had been coming to him a lot lately, and he had become aware that even at such a young age he had been something of a troublemaker. But it was all still a haze behind a curtain, and he could never make out many details or recall anything he really wanted.

'_Becoming a great hero…'_ Jak thought with a scoff. Even after all this time he still didn't understand.

Jak could remember his early training and adventures in Sandover; getting hurt and nearly killed plenty of times had just become a part of his daily life. And for what? To fulfill some destiny as a person he hardly knew?

Who was Mar anyway? A savior to the people, the founder of Haven City; Jak had heard plenty of stories of Mar's greatness in the few years he had spent in Haven, but the truth was that man was a complete stranger to him.

A gentle stirring caused the youth's blue gaze to shoot to the young leader of the monks who held the seat across from him as she rolled over, pulling her blanket tighter around herself. Seeing her face in this new position, the young man quirked a green eye-brow.

Asleep, Seem looked strangely…childlike.

Jak had always thought that Seem was pretty young for being someone of such authority, but only now realized that her face often looked very adult.

He gave a nervous chuckle as he also realized that that may have been one of the reasons he had mistaken her for a boy.

There was another slight shake of the transport and Jak knew they had arrived at the port. Stretching as he stood up, Jak heard several pops and slight cracks and gave a relieved sigh as he picked up his blanket, revealing his orange, Precursor companion curled up into a ball.

"Come on, Dax," Jak smiled as he rolled up the blanket. "Up and at 'em."

"Let sleeping Ottsels lie, Jak…" Daxter mumbled as he curled up into a tighter ball. "Do you want a curse on your head for eternity?"

The green-blond youth only smiled as he lifted his friend up and draped him on the back of his neck like a scarf. "Let's go."

Pressing the green button the hatch opened, sending in a rush of freezing cold air. The sudden change in temperature stirred the five sleeping monks, and Seem sat up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Morning, Seem," Jak smiled.

The young woman wrapped her blanket tighter around herself as she set her feet on the floor and shivered violently. "I had forgotten…how cold it becomes here…at this time of the year."

"Oh, right!" Jak looked to the two pilots of the transport. "Hey! Could you get them some jackets?"

One of the guards stood up, moving around to the back of his seat where he pulled out a trunk; opening it he withdrew several heavy jackets. "Here you go."

As the winter wear was passed around to the monks, Jak stepped out to check on the passengers of the second transport. He didn't actually know who what else Seem had brought with her to Haven, and was somewhat curious as the hatch opened, allowing the first passenger to disembark.

"Howdy, ankle biters," Kleiver grinned as he stepped down the ramp, Veger struggling to keep balance on the man's shoulder. "Bet you didn't 'spect t' see—"

The Wastelander was cut off as Daxter lunged from Jak's shoulder, tackling Veger to the ground where he proceeded to punch, claw and bite the former leader of the Grand Council of Haven City. Kleiver and Jak watched as the two Ottsels wrestled, more brown fur than orange flying from the scuffle, before the scarred man separated them, holding Daxter by his pants and a quivering Veger by his vest.

"And don't think I'm done with you yet, asshole!" The orange Precursor exclaimed. "I warned ya about what I'd do if I ever saw your butt-ugly face again! Some people may've forgiven ya, but _I_ sure as hell _haven't_!"

"I can assure you, Orange Lightning, that Veger is far from forgiven."

Everyone turned to meet the owner of the gentle voice, beholding Seem and her monks—all wearing thick, fur-lined jackets—as they left the carrier.

Kleiver dropped the two Ottsels and offered his hand to the lady monk. "Was th' trip a'right?" He asked as Seem accepted his hand and stepped down.

"It was fine," she replied. "Though a little tiring."

The weathered Wastelander directed a storm-grey glare at Jak as he knelt down to pick Daxter up off the ground. "The small poppies didn't say or do nothin' stupid?"

"Hey! Jellybelly," Daxter snapped from Jak's shoulder, "how come you act all gentlemanly with Seem, but you're a jerk to Jak, even though you know he's Damas' son?"

Jak's sapphire gaze fell to the ground and Kleiver was silent; only afterwards did Daxter realize it was due to his mentioning the late King of Spargus that the winter air became thick with solemn discomfort.

The veil of silence was lifted when Seem turned to her monks, speaking to them in their ancient tongue. Bowing, they began to unload the baskets and various other oddities they had brought with them—one monk handed their leader a leather-bound book of some sort—and Seem turned back to Jak.

"I believe that we should be going, if we do not wish to be late."

Jak nodded quickly. "Yeah. You're right…"

The monk then turned to Kleiver. "Look after the others," she said. "I will be discussing the arrangements with the Baroness after the meeting, then we will put the preparations underway."

"Right o," the man smiled, picking Veger up off the ground. "In the meantime, the boys n' me'll be playin' a little game…"

Veger shuddered.

"No killing," Seem added.

"O' course not!" Kleiver replied with an amiable wave as he joined the monks in unloading the transport.

Seem returned her attention to Jak and Daxter. "Shall we go?"

"Please, let's," Daxter replied blandly.

Walking the short distance from the port to the Naughty Ottsel, Jak found the hover car he had requested be ready for them and took the keys from the guard looking after it. "Thanks."

The blue-armored soldier nodded and opened the door to the backseat for Seem. But the porcelain-skinned young woman opened the passenger side door by herself and sat down, holding her book securely on her lap.

Jak exchanged a shrug with the blue guard, waving him off before sliding into the driver's seat and lifting off. Once in the air, Jak would have been content to let a comfortable silence fill the space between him and the monk…

…But, of course, Daxter was never one for silences, comfortable or otherwise.

"You got a sporadic feminist thing goin' on, Seem?"

The young woman blinked.

"You let Kleiver help you outta the transport," Daxter said, "but you didn't like the guy opening your door for you. What the dealy?"

Seem returned her ruby gaze ahead to stare into the wind. "Haven City's law enforcement still resembles the Krimzon Guard."

"Yeah, but they're Blue Freedom League now," the Ottsel replied.

"You cannot take something, paint it a different color and expect the pain and hatred caused by it to simply disappear," she said. "That is demanding too much."

Jak blinked, curious as to how Seem knew about the Krimzon Guard at all. He had always believed the Precursor Monk had been born and raised in the Wasteland, but now he had to wonder if that wasn't the case. Even so, he chose not to prod into the monk's life and kept it to himself.

So Daxter once again took up the silence, this time with a new question for a new topic. "So how come Kleiver hasn't eaten Count Venetian yet? I was sure he wouldn't last a week."

"Though I am certain the thought has come to Kleiver a number of times…" Seem responded with a small smile which rapidly vanished, "…Veger has far too much to answer for."

At that, Daxter finally fell silent with a slow nod, agreeing whole-heartedly that Veger deserved a lot of grief for the pain he had inflicted on so many. And for the lives he had trampled on his blind quest for greatness."

Jak felt uncomfortable with the silence that enshrouded his ever-peppy friend, and decided to redirect the thought current. "So, Seem…" he asked awkwardly, as he rarely initiated a conversation. "What's this thing you'll be celebrating, anyway?"

Unexpectedly, Seem smiled broadly, raising herself a little higher at the mention of her holiday. "It is a very special night," the young woman said. "It comes only once ever four years, and we are all very anxious about it."

"What's it for?" Asked Daxter, his interests piqued at seeing the otherwise solemn monk smiling.

She contemplated on her answer before speaking. "It is a celebration for the dead."

Silence fell once again as Jak and Daxter stared wide-eyed at the lady monk, who simply smiled back.

After a long while, his ears back, Daxter cleared his throat. "Sounds…morbid."

"It is not," Seem said. "More than anything, it is a time for us to remember those we have parted ways with; to know that they are still with us and that we will see them again." She turned her ruby eyes to Jak gently. "We of Spargus look to the lighter side of death in times of it."

Jak quickly averted his gaze as he flew them into the docking bay of Haven's new capital building. "There's no 'lighter side' to death," he said grimly. "You just die."

Landing, the three stepped out of the vehicle—Daxter taking his usual spot on Jak's shoulder—and moved down the hall to the elevator.

"If you like, you may both take part in it tonight," Seem offered as Jak punched in the floor number and the elevator started moving.

"What?"

"The ceremony," the monk replied. "We have allowed the Wastelanders to participate in the past; it would be nothing new for you to come."

"Noooo thanks, sister!" Daxter replied quickly. "Sounds a little too weird for my tastes."

The monk redirected her attention to the Ottsel's friend and carrier. "And you, Jak?"

The green blond bowed his head, looking down from the reflection in the metal doors. "I…I dunno, Seem. It's just not…"

"It is your decision, Jak," the young woman said. "If you wish to take part, you may. If you do not, you do not have to."

The remainder of the elevator trip was silent as it traveled up to the meeting floor, and within a short while the doors opened to reveal a man with reddish-brown hair tied back in a style similar to Wastelander and pale blue eyes, as well as a tattoo of the sun upon his face—denoting his high rank in the military.

Jak smiled. "Hey, Torn."

"S'up!" Daxter grinned, leaning forward and getting into the man's face. "Did ya miss us, sweetie?"

The commander of the Blue Freedom League caught sight of Seem and unfolded his arms, holding them behind his back as he straightened. "Ashelin wanted me to greet the Spargus Representative upon hi—arrival," Torn said, and turned to the Monk. "Seem?"

The high priest nodded to him and followed as he moved down the hall toward the meeting room, Jak and Daxter in tow as they exchanged smiles.

About halfway there, Seem at last said, "In the chance that you are uncertain as to my gender, Commander Torn, I am female."

The man jerked slightly, his eyes widening as he looked at the monk beside him. He looked back and Daxter and Jak to find them stifling their laughs and Torn quickly returned his gaze ahead of him. "My apologies."

The porcelain-skinned, ruby-eyed young woman nodded. "You are not the first to make this mistake," she replied. "Several Wastelanders were unsure for some time…" Seem glanced over her shoulder at the two heroes, "In fact, Jak was victim to shock when he walked in on me while I was in the bath."

Torn turned wide blue eyes to the young woman, then sent a smug smile back at a flustered Jak. "Was he now?"

"Oh shut up," the green-blond mumbled.

They approached the room at the end of the hall, and the two guards standing outside the room pushed the wooden doors open for them; as he stepped inside, Jak found two others standing on either side of the doorway to hold the doors open. Inside the room was a table, about three feet wide and eight feet long with a number of five seats on either side and one at the head just a few feet in front of them.

The chair turned to reveal Ashelin, who quickly got up to greet them. "Welcome to Haven City, Seem."

The porcelain-skinned, ruby-eyed young woman nodded, then directed a glance over her shoulder at the two, blue-armored guards. "Is it necessary that _they_ be here as well?" She asked.

"Since someone from Kras City will also be attending this meeting, yes," the red-haired Baroness replied. "I'm sorry if they make you uncomfortable, but I want safety to be a top priority here."

Casting a slight glare at the guards, Seem nodded before walking down the right side of the table to the place with the Spargus nameplate, taking her seat and opening the leather bound book she had brought with her.

Ashelin looked to Jak and Daxter curiously, who both shrugged.

"So, Red," the Ottsel asked, "who's Kras' Rep., anyway? Did Rayn say who'd be comin'?"

The Baroness' expression turned angry at the woman's name. "I don't know," she almost snapped as she returned to her seat at the head of the table.

Jak took a seat near the front on Ashelin's left, letting Daxter hop down from his shoulder and onto the table where he headed from the refreshments laid out in the center of the table.

The two friends were fairly certain that Rayn, Krew's daughter and the basic ruler of Kras City, wouldn't come herself. They had heard from Torn that Ashelin had delivered the news of the meeting to Rayn personally…as well as a severe punch to the woman's face.

Upon hearing that Rayn had gotten a black eye from the encounter, Jak and Daxter thought it safe to assume that Haven City was the last place she would want to be.

"Who do you think Rayn'll send?" Daxter asked he dragged over two bottles of water.

Jak shrugged, accepting the beverage. "Sig, maybe?"

As if on cue, the twin doors to the meeting room flew open—smashing into the two guards stationed on either side—and in strolled a light-skinned man with jet black hair—some also on his chin—and bright green eyes, clad in a red jacket, carrying a bouquet of roses.

"Hello, Haven City," Razer smiled.

Daxter screamed.

As he walked toward the table, Razer stopped to watch the two guards that he had hit come out from behind the doors and close them as they held their injured faces with a groan.

"You shouldn't stand behind there," Razer said, his accent making his 'R's sound almost like 'W's. "You could get hurt."

The two guards looked ready to charge the man, but held their positions vehemently.

The racer quickly turned to Ashelin, who looked somewhat uncomfortable, and placed the bouquet in her arms. "These are for you, Lady Baroness," he smiled. "They are filled with the respect for the wonderful being that is the female ruler who guides the righteous and whose fair visage inspires romantic fantasy…"

"Yeah… Okay…" Ashelin passed the roses to Torn.

"But more than anything, I wanted to thank you for punching Rayn," he added as he walked off. "Heaven knows _I_ have wanted to."

At that, Ashelin was willing to take one rose from the bouquet before Torn carried it out of the room to find a wastebasket to drop it into.

Razer found the seat with the Kras name plate, but rather than sitting down, he picked it up, carrying it from its designated place to sit beside Jak. "It's been a while, Jak."

"Not long enough," Daxter spat.

"And hello, Daxter," the combat racer added with a smile.

The Ottsel glared. "What the heck are _you_ doing here?"

The black-haired man reached into the left side of his coat, withdrawing his lighter, followed by his butterfly knife. Returning them, Razer reached into the right side of his jacket, smiling as he succeeded in pulling out a neatly folded, stapled group of paper and held it out to Jak.

Daxter swiped it before his friend could even reach for it. Unfolding it, he began to read at a low volume and a fast pace—pausing once to take a breath—before he lowered the paper with a flat expression directed at Razer. "_You're_ the Kras City Deligate?"

"Believe me, I didn't sign up for the job," Razer said, leaning back in his seat. "But Rayn took enough steps to pay me to come here, so _here_ I am…" he leaned closer to Jak, "…love me."

"No," Jak replied flatly, moving his chair a few inches away from Kras City's deadliest combat racer.

But Razer just shrugged, leaning back again. "Your loss."

"Did you come here just to torment us some more?" Daxter asked, handing back Razer's contract papers.

"Among other things," the man replied, accepting the papers and folding them back up before returning them to his jacket. "But mostly, I'm looking to get back in touch with an old friend…"

Razer trailed off as he looked past Jak, and the youth turned to follow his gaze straight to Seem, sitting quietly at the opposite end of the table.

"And who, may I ask, is that handsome little creature?" Razer inquired.

Jak looked back at the man, green eyebrow raised. "Uh…well…"

"That's Seem," Daxter replied with a smile. "High Priest of the Precursor Monks."

At that, Razer blinked. "Spargan?"

"Can't ya tell?" The Ottsel grinned. "How 'bout you go talk with him? With neither of you bein' from Haven, I bet you'd get along great."

Jak stiffened, turning his blue eyes to his friend. "Dax—!" He was cut off as the Ottsel covered his face.

But Razer had already picked up the Kras City name plate and was walking around the table.

Jak tore Daxter off of his head and dropped him back on the table. "What do you think you're doing, Daxter?"

The Ottsel snickered. "You saw how Torn reacted when he found out Seem was a girl," he whispered. "Just think about what a hoot it'll be when Razer finds out!"

"I dunno, Dax," Jak said skeptically.

Meanwhile, just across the table, Razer set the Kras name plate down and sat in the chair on Seem's left. "Hello!"

Raising her ruby eyes to the black-haired man's green, Seem said nothing.

"Seem, isn't it?"

Still nothing.

"It's so nice to meet you," Razer smiled, undaunted by her lack of a reply. "I haven't actually met that many people from Spargus—I've only actually know it existed for a little less than a year now—so it's a treat to meet the head of the order of Precursor Monks."

Seem returned to writing in her notebook.

"Ah! I'm being rude again," the man said. "My name is Razer."

Seem nodded, and he chuckled at the response, glad to know she was in fact listening to him.

"I suppose it is reasonable that I don't meet many Spargan folk," Razer went on. "They rarely leave the Wasteland and I've only gone there to race a few times. I can't stand how hot it gets out there!"

At the mention of his racing, Seem's hand paused against the paper and she raised her head.

"You are a racer?" She inquired.

"I am indeed," the man smiled. "One of the best in Combat Racing."

"And you have raced in the Wasteland?"

Razer thought a moment. "Once or twice…yes."

"In the Kras City Grand Championship, did you race through the Precursor Temple?" Seem asked at last.

Razer shook his head firmly. "No. I was still in retirement at the time, but I wouldn't have taken the track even if I hadn't been," he said. "I'm not particularly religious, but there are times when sacrilege and blasphemy to a religion come around to bite you in the ass."

For a time, Seem just stared at him, blinking a couple of times as she considered something in silence.

Razer decided to lift it.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a very handsome young woman?"

Daxter cried out in exasperation.

"No, I cannot say anyone has," Seem replied evenly.

"Well, they should…" Razer said as he picked up the Kras nameplate and looked at it. "Can't they give us _actual_ name plates? My name is not 'Kras'."

"You seriously _can_ be, though," Daxter called across the table.

"And _you_ cannot _spell_," Razer called back.

Torn came back into the room and the guards closed the doors behind him as he took his place at Ashelin's side.

"I would like to thank you all for coming today," the Baroness said, quietly adding, "some more than others."

"Your welcome!" Razer called back, making the redhead grind her teeth.

"In any case, I'd rather not sidestep, so I'll just get right to the point," she said after a deep breath. "Several…strange occurrences have taken place these past couple of years. Metalheads assaulting en masse, Krimzon Guard mutiny, and…certain others in which no real explanation can be given. In light of these incidents, I feel it would be in our best interest to form a treaty between our three cities."

Razer quirked an eyebrow. "An alliance of some sort?"

"Yes," Ashelin nodded. "Years ago, it was thought that Haven was the only inhabited place on the planet, safe from Metalheads. This was proven to be false when the old Eco rig became Kras City; however, any ties to that place were cut off by the Baron Praxis. This isolation turned out to be something of a mistake, as Eco and various supplies began to become scarce.

"Then, about two years ago, Spargus City was discovered in the Southern Wasteland," she continued. "Though its people were those that the previous Baron had banished from Haven, they proved to be resilient fighters and great allies."

Jak looked at Seem, smiling slightly; though she met his eyes, the monk did not return the expression and focused her attention at the head of the table as Ashelin went on.

"It is my belief that we would have much more to gain from each other if we supported one another rather than ignored the fact that there are other Cities in the world," the Baroness said. "I'm not looking for a 'coming together under one ruler' sort of treaty, but I feel if we are in need of it, we should be able to call on each other for help."

"So, you're saying that we will all stay in our provided places, under the same rulers, with no changes, except for whenever one of our cities sends out a distress call, we will all jump in to save the day?" Razer asked.

"No, not completely," Ashelin replied. "Haven is willing to allow anyone from Kras to enter the city without discrimination and those banished to Spargus will be forgiven for any crimes they were expelled from Haven for."

For a short while, the table was quiet.

But once again, it was Razer who spoke up. "If I may ask a question…?"

"Yes?"

"I heard that the son of Damas had been found a couple years back," the man said.

All movement at the table stilled, and for almost five seconds, no one breathed.

"I am just a _little_ curious as to why the Baroness rules Haven City and not the Heir to the House of Mar," he went on. "I find it…worth asking about."

Seem set her quill down inside her book and closed it. "The prince is young and inexperienced," she replied, startling everyone. "He does not see himself fit to take his place on the throne in Haven, or Spargus. As such, we can only offer our support and teach him until he is."

Razer quirked a fine, black eyebrow. "You know him?"

"Quite well," the young woman nodded, glancing at Jak for only a second.

Again, the room fell silent in expectation.

Until at last Razer chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Good," he said. "If you were only using him as a figurehead, or were the type of people to put a—how old would he be?—nine year old boy in such a position, I would not be expected to stay here for very long."

The Kras City Delegate steepled his gloved fingers with w a smile. "Kras City agrees to the three-way treaty with Haven and Spargus City."

Ashelin smiled, holding back her sigh of relief, and quickly redirecting her gaze to Seem. "And what does Spargus say?"

The lady monk pushed her chair back and stood up. "Spargus was built by the hands of Haven City's refuse," she said. "The Wastelanders made a new way of life for themselves without the technological benefits Haven and Kras use daily. If Spargus is to agree to this alliance, it is likely that Kras or Haven will alter our city to your ways."

Ashelin looked to Torn, then to Jak, but the green-blond's attention was on the Lady of the Precursor Monk and he couldn't give her any help. Returning her green gaze to Seem, who's attention was on her.

"I…" She cleared her throat. "I would find it might be an advantage to Spargus to have some technological advances…"

Seem remained on her standing, not responding.

Jak leaned forward in his chair. "Seem?"

"I apologize, but there others aside from myself would prefer that Spargus remain unchanged," she said at last. "Many have anticipated Haven's desire for a treaty, and it is very important to us that our city keep its current way of life as it is."

"And how do you know that?" Torn asked.

The High Priest of the Golden Order met the commander's blue gaze with her ruby, blinking once, very slowly. The sheer power in those young eyes disconcerted Torn to a large degree and he shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, moving back slightly. He had forgotten exactly _who_ he was talking to.

"Individuality," Razer mused. "Nothing to really frown at."

Jak looked to Ashelin and nodded firmly, agreeing that Spargus just wouldn't feel like home if it became incredibly technological.

The Baroness returned her green gaze to the leader of the Precursor Monks. "I think there's no real problem in that."

Seem made no move to respond, as she thought something over. Upon making her decision, she straightened. "If it permitted, Spargus shall refrain from answering until tomorrow," she said, surprising the whole room.

"What for?" Daxter asked.

"The celebration the Baroness has permitted to take place here in Haven City is very sacred to us in Spargus," the monk replied. "If it goes well and unbroken while here, I believe it would be a chance for us to know for sure that our values will not be looked down on and that your word is honest."

Ashelin opened her mouth to say something, but Jak set his bottled water down, calling her attention to him; his stern blue gaze told her not to try and object if she wanted Spargus in the treaty.

The redhead blinked, but conceded with a sigh. "I'm willing to allow you to think it over until tomorrow," she said.

"Thank you," Seem bowed and took her seat once more.

"And given the current turn of events, I'll adjourn the meeting until one o'clock tomorrow," the Baroness said.

Everyone at the table agreed and rose from their seats to stretch. But Razer stopped and picked up the Kras City name plate.

"Pardon me, Baroness," he called to Ashelin, holding up the object in his hand for her to see. "Would you mind if I held on to this?"

The redhead waved her hand dismally.

"Much obliged," the racer smiled as he passed her—the two guards stationed inside the room wary as he opened one door—and left the room.

Ashelin sighed, rubbing her temples. "I was hoping this meeting wouldn't be a headache…"

"Was my request too outrageous?" Seem asked as she approached the red-haired baroness.

"It's not because of you," Ashelin replied, standing up. "It's mostly because of _him_," she pointed after Razer. "Though I do have to ask. Why are you withholding your answer when I was willing to agree to your terms?"

Seem set her book down on the meeting table. "I told you my reasons," she said. "More than anything, I believe the ceremony you have allowed us to continue here will settle any disputes between our two cities. Those of Haven will understand why we value our current way of life, and the people of Spargus will feel there has been some change since the time of their banishment."

Ashelin sighed, brushing some stray hair out of her face. "I still need to know the details of this whole thing," she said. "I'm sure you won't be sacrificing people, but any safety issues and other need-to-know tidbits need to be laid out on the table before I give the final word."

"Of course," the monk nodded, and then looked to Jak, Daxter and Torn. "If you could leave us in private for the time being…"

"Sure," Jak replied, motioning for Daxter to get back on his shoulder before stepping out into the hall.

Torn, however, was reluctant to leave, leaning closer to his commanding officer and lover. "Ashelin…"

"It's alright," she said. "Go ahead. And take the guards out, too; they put her on edge."

Straightening, Torn saluted and with the two—somewhat injured—guards, he exited the room, closing the doors behind them.

"Seem's not gonna kill Ashelin," Jak assured Torn with a smile. "You don't need to worry."

"I know," the man sighed. "Honestly, I don't think Seem actually could."

"Oh, she could," Daxter said. "She managed to beat Errol down to get away when he attacked the Temple. She _definitely_ could."

"But she wouldn't," Jak added quickly, with a glare directed at his orange-furred friend.

"She strikes me as the sort that would only kill if something important was at stake," came the accented response from the Kras City delegate as he joined them by the door.

Jak's blue eyes narrowed as Razer leaned against the large window, but the young hero quirked a green eyebrow when he found the veteran racer scratching something into the back of the Kras City name plate with his butterfly knife.

"What are you _doing_?"

"I'll show you when I'm done."

Jak exchanged a look with Daxter and Torn, but the both of them had no more insight than he did.

"By the way, Jak…" Razer blew some carving flakes away. "Why were you at the meeting?"

"What?"

"Well, I understand myself and Seem, we were called here to represent our two cities," the man said. "Ashelin is the Baroness of Haven City, and Torn is her bodyguard." He raised his green eyes to the youth. "_You_, however…I do not really understand your need to be there."

Jak averted his gaze quickly. "Yeah, I…" His mind ran a mile a second as he thought of an explanation. "I was banished from Haven City at one time," he said. "And I know how Spargus works, so I came to make sure Ashelin wouldn't do or say anything she might regret."

"Hmm…" Razer nodded. "An interesting job." He at last finished his activity with the name plate, blowing away the flakes of plastic before turning it around for them to see his work. On the back of the name plate, in roughly-done letters, was Razer's name.

Daxter's eyelids drooped. "You are a total dork. You know that, right?"

The man shrugged, looking back at his name plate. "To each, their own," he said. "By the way, nice try with Seem, but I knew she was a girl when I saw the back of her ears."

"_You've_ got girly ears," the Ottsel pointed.

"They are not _girly_!" Razer exclaimed, covering his ears defensively.

Daxter exchanged a smug look with Jak, but decided not to continue with the topic.

It was then that Torn stepped forward. "How come you came to Haven?"

"A couple reasons. Rayn paid me, first off," the man shrugged. "And I know how the city works better than Shiv or the others. Plus, I didn't want to have to deal with Rayn; her face was really swollen when I last saw her, so she was really cranky."

At that, the two elves and the Ottsel couldn't help snickering.

"So you work for Rayn now?" Jak asked.

"Hell no!" Razer said. "Since Mizo's gone, I've gone back to retirement and haven't worked for anyone but myself. But I am useful should anyone really need my expertise."

"Hmm…" The green-blond youth nodded.

"Mostly, I'd heard rumors about King Damas' son and came to see him firsthand," he went on. "It's not everyday you meet a member of the highest, most legendary family on the planet."

"Yeah? You'd be surprised just how often you do," Torn replied, glancing at Jak, who quickly looked away. "In any case," the commander returned his attention to Razer, "how did you know how old the Heir of Mar was?"

Jak looked up with a start. He remembered Razer saying how old his younger self would be by now, but hadn't even noticed before that he had known.

"A friend wrote me a couple years back," the racer replied, flipping his knife closed and returning it to his jacket. "Which brings me to another reason for coming to Haven. Jak," he looked to the green-blond, "you're a Zoomer, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Jak blinked, but realized the man meant he raced on a Zoomer. "Yeah, but not for a couple years now."

"But still, maybe you've heard of him," Razer said. "I'm looking for an old friend of mine—"

Razer was cut off as a short, green-skinned man came sliding around the corner, his huge wood sandals beating against the floor as he ran down the hall, passing them and throwing open the doors to the meeting room.

"Ashelin!"


End file.
